Brisingr Edoc'sil
by Dark-Bay
Summary: Galbatorix, future mass murderer and the downfall of the riders, but what happened in his past to make him what he is today?
1. Hate

**Hi guys, this is my first story on the site, so I hope you bear with me until the end. Just like to say a special thanks to wildskysong for betaing this chap/story. Enjoy!**

1. Hate

Galbatorix's eyes flickered fearfully at the door time and time again, his muscles frozen in place with terror, his mother's screams reverberating around in his head. He closed his eyes and covered his ears with his hands.

_Fire. Pain. Heat. His city in turmoil, people's minds clouded with hate__and__fear of the unknown. Hundreds of shapes, blacker than the night, floating__down. They looked like dragons except__all of them were black with leathery skin instead of scales and sharp, wicked beaks instead of teeth._

_Human-like forms leaped from their backs,__hunched and humpbacked,__cloaks covering their faces. Anyone close enough to see beyond the hood was__as good as dead. No one could fight them, no one received mercy, and no one died without screams ripping through the air from their mouths._

_These were monsters, desecrators, vicious beyond reason. Their steeds made quick work of all the animals, severing spines with quick snaps of their beaks before gulping down their prey._

_Were these the devil's minions? Or some vile creatures come from across the sea, from distant, unknown lands? No one wasted time working it out; all they had time for was escape._

_Suddenly, in the distance a multitude of roars could be heard, ripping through the air like an avalanche. The hunchbacked creatures and their steeds turned to meet their foe and a hundred wild dragons and fifty Dragon Riders approached, bloodlust rising in them._

"_RA'ZAC! LETHRBLAKA! COME AND MEET US, OR ARE YOU TOO COWARDLY? COME AND MEET YOUR DOOM HEAD ON!" Vrael's voice boomed across the distance, enhanced by magic._

_Enraged, the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka threw themselves at their foes, but no flying creature was equal to a wild dragon in combat and aerial manoeuvres, and no creature of land was equal in swordsmanship to the Dragon Riders._

_Three of the largest Lethrblaka pitted themselves against Ramratha*, a huge red dragon, old before the bond between riders, dwarfing Wyrda's size. The Lethrblaka could fit in between his teeth when his maw was open and so they were greatly disadvantaged. Furious clicking was__heard as__ten more Lethrblaka__came shrieking__to bring this monster of a dragon down._

_Three Lethrblaka fell, one after the other, deep gashes in the sides of two, with the third almost rent in half, held together by a few strands of flesh and sinew. The Lethrblaka, enraged by the deaths of their kin, doubled their attack. Numerous cuts opened on the mighty warrior, looking like pinpricks compared to his size. Droplets the size of__human children__dripped to the ground and enraged Ramratha opened his maw to its full extent and a raging torrent of red flame, ten feet in diameter and fifty in length incinerated the flesh of another five. That left five Lethrblaka against him. One fell when it got too close to his mouth, snapped up and crushed before sliding down his gullet. The remaining four__dove at__his neck in the hope of severing vital arteries. Ramratha tilted backwards until he was upright, supported by his wings before the Lethrblaka managed anything, and snapped up three of the remaining four. The last one, despite trying desperately to flee, was caught on the spine by his tail, before falling to the ground paralyzed._

_Ramratha roared his challenge to the Lethrblaka, the sound carrying to the people in the city below._

_The Lethrblaka and Ra'zac were crushed, but many fled, never to be seen again, until the Dragon Riders rooted them all out. But two Ra'zac and Lethrblaka had hid in the city, and the Ra'zac, angry and hungry, had come into Galbatorix's house…_

"_HIDE" his mother had screamed, before she and Galbatorix's father were slaughtered by the razak, their corpses taken outside to their steeds as food before the monsters winged their way to the rest of their race and vanished._

Galbatorix awoke with a start, and a quick glance around told him that last night really had happened.

Mother. Father. Gone.

Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he contemplated his future.

_What future?_He thought venomously, _I have no family, no money, a house with memories best left alone. How will I get food? A home? How will I even survive? A gutter rat, a little runt, that's all I am now. I'm nothing. Doomed to starve like all those before me._

Revenge, he decided, was the only way forwards, the only way to save himself, but he needed to grow first. Become strong, quick with the blade, and get magic.

He set out from the poor parts of the city, making his way to the inner parts, with wealthy people. In their confusion, no one noticed a ragged young boy sneak into a large building, looking for a sword. The building was nothing but a barracks, like most places here. He walked out. Second time around, he struck lucky and found a weapon master's work place, complete with a forge to make weapons.

Galbatorix stared at the weapon racks, picking up random swords until he found one that felt right.

_An elegant sword_he thought idly as he twirled it around. _Now to find someone to practice with. But not now, tomorrow._

The next day Galbatorix awoke with a start, intent on learning to fight with the sword. He made his way out of his now ruined house to the barracks, to watch recruits being trained. By now, with the help of the Riders, the city had calmed down considerably, seeing as there were two dragons and their Riders left in the city.

When he arrived, veterans were training recruits, as he had hoped, and, in a secluded spot, he began to train. He couldn't train with other people of course, but he sparred with imaginary foes, namely the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka.

Whilst learning to fight with the sword, he mercilessly fought with other beggars in the lower part of the city, fighting for food, shelter, and money. Being one of the only with a sword, he thrived on the streets, loving the way people shrank back when he walked past, fearful of a beating or worse. But he never took food or money without cause, remembering the hard days back when his parents were alive, when they had been robbed so many times they went hungry more often than not, left sitting in front of the fire with no food to eat, only filthy water to drink, and no protection from further robbing when they slept.

Before long Galbatorix was a competent swordsman, but he still wanted proper training. Galbatorix walked down towards the recruits, already arrogant enough to believe he was better than them, and called to the trainer.

"I will fight any of these recruits, and if you deign me good, will you train me personally?"

The trainer sneered at Galbatorix.

"Agreed," he said. He pointed randomly at a recruit and called him to fight.

Galbatorix dropped into a fighting stance, left leg in front of his right, knees bent, prepared to jump either side with his sword help horizontally in front of his face, eyes cold and hard as frozen steel.

They circled each other for a time, until with a roar the recruit charged, swinging his sword around his head and cleaving a path through the air towards his head, but by the time it reached where Galbatorix's head was he had moved out of the way. Galbatorix was in a perfect position to bring his sword up to the recruit's neck, but that would be boring, so he refrained. Galbatorix stayed on the defensive for a few more minutes, before moving to offensive, weaving his sword to and fro, feinting here, parrying here, stabbing here, before his arms started burning. When they did, he began taunting the recruit, calling his mother a pack mule and his father a common beggar, saying he would fall to a farmer in a swordfight. Eventualy, the recruit became so enraged he tried cleaving Galbatorix in half, which is what he wanted. As before, Galbatorix moved out of the way before swiftly moving his sword up to the recruit's neck.

"Dead."

He turned to the trainer, "Your deal. Tomorrow at dawn?"

The trainer stared at him, speechless at what he had just witnessed; a scrap of a boy had defeated his recruit. "Impossible…"

**Thank you (whoever reads this) for finding the start of my book and reading it, I hope you enjoy it! There won't be any specific update times, I'll just update whenever I can. Hope you stay with the story.**

**(Sorry WSS) ~James**


	2. Training

**Yo, uhh…sorry for the long wait…my beta came out of the void! Or, back to town. Well, I put this up as soon as I got the chap back, so you can't complain!**

**Enjoy!**

Training

When Galbatorix awoke before dawn the next day, there was a dagger held to his throat and a hand held in front of him. _A thief__,_ he thought. Galbatorix sighed and went for his money sack, acting as is he was going along with the thief, but as the robber relaxed he suddenly rolled under him whilst bringing out his sword.

"Run or you die!"

The robber laughed. "What have I to fear from a little runt like you?"

"A lot," Galbatorix replied before bringing his sword around in an arc towards the robber's neck, who stared dumbly at the sword as his head was chopped off. "Scum," he said before spitting on the ground next to the thief's decapitated head.

The thief had a bit of money on him, which Galbatorix took. He left the body where it had fallen and stretched, realizing with a tiny jolt of surprise that he felt nothing for the man he'd just killed.

Why should he feel something for scum like them? Stealing from other people to make their life easier, when their victims' lives where hard enough without being robbed.

_I wouldn't mind if they robbed the rich people, who do nothing for the poor. _He mused next to the corpse.

Galbatorix decided to make his way to the barracks a little early. He scaled up the wall onto the roof of a house and made his way to the training grounds where he had been training before, jumping from roof to roof like a monkey.

When he reached the grounds the trainer wasn't there, as he had expected, so he decided to do some strength and stamina training. He ran laps around the training area, doing twenty press-ups at each corner for around an hour before the trainer turned up, who watched the little runt run.

_Impressive,_ he thought to himself as Galbatorix sprinted around, never faltering, for another twenty minutes. After that time the trainer stepped out, deciding to find out how well he could fight after fifty minutes of non-stop fitness training.

"BOY!" He roared across the field as Galbatorix got up from doing fifty press-ups. "COME HERE!"

Galbatorix jogged over at a steady pace, regaining his breath before the sword training. When he arrived the trainer threw a wooden sword at him, which he caught, and the older man began tutoring him.

He began by showing Galbatorix how to properly stand in defensive and offensive, which Galbatorix learned rather quickly. He then had a spar with him to end the lesson. Although Galbatorix had beaten the recruit, he was no match for the trainer, who disarmed and 'killed' him within thirty seconds.

"You're learning fast,"

"Thank you," Galbatorix replied whilst bowing.

"I think, you deserve to know my name, so you may find me if you're ever in need. My name is Jarnun,"

"And mine is Galbatorix, though I doubt you will want to find me if you're in need,"

Jarnun chuckled lightly at that, "Nay, I doubt I would. Anyway, this is the end of our lesson. Come at dawn every morning if you can, and we shall continue your training. And do as much strength training as you can, but keep your arms fast."

With that he left Galbatorix in the field, making his way home, or so Galbatorix thought. When he was in the shadows and out of Galbatorix's sight he turned and watched Galbatorix, following him as he made his way home.

Galbatorix made his way to the outer area of the city, taking a detour to go past his old home. When he was nearly there, he faltered a little, before squaring his shoulders and walking in. He cried out in shock at what he saw; everything of worth had been taken, even the metal surrounding the fireplace.

He tentatively made his way to his parents old bedroom and looked under the bed. None of the floorboards looked out of place. With his posture relaxing slightly he went to a floorboard that looked exactly the same to the others and pulled it up. He almost cried in relief when he saw that the family heirlooms were still there. He made a decision there and then to brave the memories of the place to stop it falling into worse condition.

_Besides,_he thought, _doing the place up will strengthen my arms._

He went into his room only to find the bed had gone, so he took the bed from his parents' bedroom and moved it into his, prying up a floorboard to hide the family heirlooms, leaving the one in his parent's bedroom open so any thieves thought they were already gone.

After doing that he decided to go out and find his possessions.

_This is going to be a long and hard road to walk,_he thought grimly, thinking of all the places they could be. He would've started there and then, but decided that, since he'd been training all day, he should probably sleep first.

He collapsed onto his bed and slept without thinking anymore thoughts.

Jarnun, having seen all of this, felt pity for the boy. _So that is why he is training with me and not his father.__His parents are dead.__Must've been hard surviving without parents; maybe that's why he's so hard._

The next morning, Galbatorix awoke at dawn. He went to the store room before remembering that there was no food there anymore.

"Barzûl," he said to himself quietly. He'd have to eat later. He made his way to the training grounds along the rooftops as he had the day before, mostly for speed and to keep his body lithe and agile.

When he arrived, as instructed he began running around the grounds doing twenty press-ups at each corner, until he was called over by Jarnun thirty minutes later.

Jarnun had bought a loaf of bread for Galbatorix, which he threw at Galbatorix when he was close enough. He watched with amusement as Galbatorix tore into the loaf as if his life would end did he not eat it within a minute. When he was done he looked up at Jarnun, wordless thanks in his eyes.

"Now, answers," Jarnun said.

"What answers?" Galbatorix replied.

"Why do you want to learn to fight?"

"To survive,"

"No ulterior motive? Revenge perhaps?"

"No," He said, eyes hard, daring Jarnun to challenge his word.

"Very well, if you wish it that way," was Jarnun's reply, before he threw a wooden sword at the boy.

As soon as Galbatorix caught the sword he moved in and attacked. Every now and again he would shout at Galbatorix to lean further forwards, or widen his stance, or lower his body.

"Attack," he said thirty minutes later, whilst slipping into defensive stance seamlessly.

Galbatorix obliged and began attacking him, using every trick he knew, even resorting to trickery to try and beat Jarnun, but as before he was just too good. Jarnun twirled his sword around Galbatorix's wrenching it out of his hands before bringing his sword up to his neck, below the chin.

"Dismissed, go and refurbish your house for the rest of the day."

Galbatorix bowed before running away to begin the task of refurbishing his house. Unbeknown to him a black shape glided away, silent as the wind, and just as hard to see.

**I'm not gonna turn into one of those writers who won't update without reviews, but they would be appreciated! Anyway, 1****st**** person to guess what the black shape is can get, maybe plotline or unbeta'd version of next chap?**

**Well, off to school, cya!**


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